Finding Peace
by obaona
Summary: Set between the time of Anakin's death in ROTJ and Luke seeing him in the end. From Anakin's POV.


Title: Finding Peace

Archive: Just ask.

Rating: G

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**Finding Peace**

My son's grief-stricken face faded from me, and I wept in death for that lost look in his eyes. 

I opened my eyes to something different, my vision and senses only expanding on the moment of death. I felt the Force take me and fill me with its grace and power. I had no form, but I existed as a thing of energy, mind and thought. I felt very odd – gray and old, weak. My emotions were still in turmoil, even as I had gained acceptance in my son's forgiveness.

I was in a forest, though the vibrant colors I would have expected were muted and changed. Instead of seeing the forest – I saw the Force within it. I saw the energy lighted upon everything, within everything and binding everything. 

I exhaled to find myself in a body. My own body, as it would have been had I not fought with my Jedi Master and fallen. I felt none of the aches or pains I felt in life, only light sensations and a feeling of sensing beyond what my body could. I touched the Force in a way that I never had in life, that I never could have. I reached out, to experience it more clearly.

Obi-Wan Kenobi's sense in the Force was something I could never forget. It was bright, fiercely controlled energy distilled into a sea of calm, in the way of the Jedi. It was like a snarl undone, every thread in its place. 

I turned around to see him. Distance had no real meaning, not anymore, but he wasn't close enough to . . . touch. He looked as I had last seen him, strangely and shockingly old, with white hair and lines in his face that spoke of both smiles and pain. 

His face bore the gentlest smile.

"Master," I said, more of a breath than a word. The title came so easily, as if twenty years had not separated us from that reality. 

"Hello, Anakin," he said, just as softly. He wore the Jedi robes I had last seen him in, rough and old, weathered by years. His voice was different – less accented, more soothing yet the voice itself rougher. His blue eyes twinkled with kindness – and that was no different than before. Not at all. 

I knew that tone in which he spoke well. That tone that he had used to soothe away nightmares and frustrations of a young boy; that tone he had used to gently admonish and teach. 

With a benevolent look he opened his arms, and I fell into them, distance having no meaning. He felt frailer, in some ways. Stronger, in others. Different. And I, too, felt different. The Force had given me the form of what I would have looked like; and I was no longer young. 

He hugged me tightly, then let me go, taking hold of my shoulders. I looked at his eyes, seeking some kind of absolution. 

"I never hated you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, eyes bright. He knew my thoughts, and it seemed right that he did, and not at all surprising.

"I gave you reason." I paused, but I had to say it. I saw clearly now what I had done, the darkness I had encouraged and brought into myself because of my pain no longer distorting my vision, or the truth. "I killed you, Master. I cut you in half!"

He looked at me, his blue eyes serious. "I know, Anakin," he said softly, meeting my eyes with an almost careful look. "I can remember looking at you, wondering if it was really you in that armor. When I raised my lightsaber, I can't say I expected you to not take advantage, but in some way, I was surprised you did."

I let out a hitching breath, almost a sob. The grip on my shoulders tightened. "I am sorry. You were a good Master – I loved you – love you – like a father. You were the only one I ever had. I wish . . ."

He laid a hand on the side of face. It felt strange, to feel something other than the quiet breeze of my respirator. Or my tears, as I had cried when my son held me, unwilling to let me go. "It ended well, Anakin." He smiled. "That does not mean your crimes were nothing, but it does mean something."

"To you?" I asked, questioningly. Not sure quite sure if I wanted the answer. 

He cocked his head, nearly amused, and let his hand drop. "Yes, to me. And to others." He smiled again, very gently as if he were afraid I would break under the force of his kindness. "You have never had to ask for my forgiveness – you have long had it, young one."

I couldn't help my smile. To have Obi-Wan's forgiveness – even, I dare say it, his love – was a gift. Then it faded, under the power of my own memories. "But I failed you and your teachings – I did . . . horrific things, to you and to the Jedi."

He shook his head slowly, flickers of pain and regret lighting in his eyes, only to fade under acceptance. "It doesn't matter now, Anakin. The past is the past, and it cannot be undone. I regret not seeing what was happening to you earlier, but I don't regret a moment of time I spent with you."

Surely I must have wept, if one can weep within the Force. 

He squeezed my shoulders. "You are a Jedi, Anakin, as you once were. And it brings joy to me that you are with us."

I turned my head, sensing something beyond the flickers of life, the ever varying changes within the Force, and saw Yoda. I let out my breath abruptly. The spry old Jedi Master was frailer then I remembered him as being, his green form bent within his robes. I knelt before him, as I had done on many occasions when I was young – and not touched by darkness.

"Returned, you have," Yoda said simply. "Gladdens my heart to see you well, it does." And he tapped my shin with his stick. His ancient eyes that had seen so much death and misery, with so much of it caused by me, shone only with acceptance. As Obi-Wan had said, I was a Jedi once again, even broken as I was. I nearly wept again at that simple acceptance, and the joy of being with my adopted family.

I felt an arm go around my shoulder, gently lifting me from my kneeling position. I got up, slowly, feeling strange in the Jedi robes I wore, so very different from the harsh, restricting armor I had known for so long. Obi-Wan let his arm drop, and turned to face to the side, as Yoda did.

I felt the Force shift around us, changing. I could sense that Obi-Wan and Yoda were causing it, at least mostly. I was being carried along, in my inexperience of death not knowing what to do. I looked out as the rich forest, full of life, transformed into a village of some kind. Fires lighted the area, and faces were lit with jubilance.

I saw my son, standing alone. My son – a son I had never known. Obi-Wan had taken him away, but in doing so he gave my son a gift I never could have. A normal life, and parents that loved him dearly, my stepbrother and his wife. But he _was_ my son. He looked almost as I had last seen him, in his black clothing with his lightsaber clipped to his belt. His blond hair shone faintly in the light, but the look of peace on his face was what drew my eyes. His sister – my daughter – came up to him and hugged him tightly, looking up at him with chocolate eyes, and he smiled down at her, embracing her in return. Then he looked up – and his face froze for a moment in recognition. 

Then he smiled at me.

And I smiled back.

The End. 


End file.
